


Buddy (angelically)

by iftheycare (RedMushroom)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Post-Finale, Quote: Y yo a ti Cas | Me too (Supernatural), Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:34:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27938977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedMushroom/pseuds/iftheycare
Summary: Cass' back from the empty, Dean isn't dead, and Sam's obsessed with the most recent development in Dean and Cass' relationship.“He specifically said ‘I love you like an angel’. He said that?”“Mind your fucking business, Sam”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72





	Buddy (angelically)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, and ~~welcome to night vale~~ thank you for reading this.  
> So, few words about this flash fic because... it has been an intense November. First things first, thank you [@Nerakrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerakrose/pseuds/nerakrose) for being an incredible beta. All the remaining mistakes are, of course, mine. Thanks also to [@Ginnyx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginnyx/pseuds/ginnyx) because she pointed out some of the remaining typos and added some invaluable content commentary -- because I wrote this for the giggles, but she actually pointed at characters stuff that I didn't know since... I actually didn't watch season 15? I'm currently starting season 12? ops. But ANYHOW we were ROBBED from Sam's reaction to Castiel's confession, so here I am.
> 
> Since I'm not a native speaker, please, indulge my English. Also, if anything is incorrect or doesn't sound like English, feel free to point at it in the comments! Otherwise, find me on [tumblr](https://andiftheycare.tumblr.com/)!

“Okay, he might have said that.” Dean rolls his eyes, trying to exit the conversation. Sam does that thing where he twitches and distorts his lips downwards pretending he’s not hiding a smile. Then he clears his throat, and Dean has to add “ _Explicitly_ ” 

Except Sam’s not satisfied with that answer. He follows him down the corridor, ruining Dean’s escape plan. 

“Explicitly, uh?” 

Dean stops just to point a finger at Sam’s face, discovering that the bastard is not hiding that smile anymore. “What?”

“He specifically said ‘I love you like an angel’. He said that?” 

“Mind your fucking business, Sam”

Sam raises his hands, feigning indifference. His eyes tell a different story. “I’m trying to understand, that’s all. Because…”

Dean raises his eyebrows, waiting for whatever kind of fuckery Sam was going to say. 

“Because… well, you know.” Sam looks extremely happy with that sentence like he actually said _something_ with it. 

“Yes, _I know._ I know I want this conversation to be fucking over.” He uses the _I’m-going-to-kill-you_ voice that works so well with people and things. For Sam Winchester, that’s just any other morning when Dean hasn’t had his coffee yet.

For all that matter, that conversation is over. _Adios_ and thanks for all the fish - whether Sam likes it or not. Weren’t they trying to respect each other’s choices? Trying to embrace the whole free will shit? 

_Great. Good job them_. Sam should get the memo that asking him about his best friend’s death--the most recent, for what it matters-- is not part of those new boundaries they’re trying out. Dean’s swallows, and walks away.

Again, that doesn’t stop Sam Winchester’s triathlon of being annoying. Sam follows him around the bunker. He’s there when Dean’s trying to lock himself in his room, to evade that silent pantomime; he’s staring while they’re having breakfast, the day after, clearing his throat like he has clearly something to say. It doesn’t stop even when they’re investigating a case in a nearby city, with Sam pointing at any angel iconography he can find. 

What he doesn’t understand, however, is Sam’s fascination with Cass’ words, as if they were something important. Dean has phrased the same meaning in different words more times than he can recall. He’d said _You’re like a brother to me. (You’re like family. We need you.)_ Implied _I love you --_ masking it with _you’re a friend, my best friend; I’d rather have you, cursed or not. (I need you_.)

“What I’m trying to say here,” Sam’s having a cup of coffee, and that’s not a conversation Dean wants to embrace first thing in the morning. “Like, being loved like an angel sounds… it’s on another level of intensity. And being at the receiving end? Good. _Great_ .” It’s fascinating how his brother refers to angels like the whole celestial bunch didn’t try to kill, possess, and brainwash the shit out of them. He’s _moved_ , really. 

“Yeah, when you don’t know them.” Dean makes a crooked smirk. “But when you do…” he glances at Sam. 

Sam blinks like Dean’s announced his retirement from hunting to become a lap dancer “But we do know this one, right?” 

This time, Dean almost tells him how much of a bitch Sam is, but he doesn’t because he’s a good brother.

“What I’m trying to say,” He continues, speaking slowly “This is not _an_ angel, this is Cass. He might be the last fry at the bottom of an angelic Happy Meal, but…”

“Cass’s a Seraph” Dean interrupts him, offended. “He’s not a fucking fry.”

Sam raises his hand, gesticulates midair, and then he clenches it and puts it on his nose. “How do you know….” He stops, probably realising he’s being sidetracked. Then he put a hand on his shoulder, all serious. “Dean, are you telling me that he said specifically ‘I love you like an angel’ before sacrificing himself to the empty? Am I quoting this correctly?” 

Dean opens and closes his mouth, thinking that Sam should shut the fuck up. That he’s interpreting that confession the best that he can, that there’s nothing new in the way Cass spoke to him because that’s how they said _I love you_ in their family, so it’s not _even_ a confession.

“Dean?”

He glances at him with a sore knot in his throat. “Maybe those were not his words, but… Cass’s an angel.”

Sam’s waiting “So he loves you… like an angel.” 

There’s no point in articulating his thoughts. To say: _yes, Sam, like an angel_. Because Dean never understood how angels love, or if there could be a perfect equivalent to humans’ feelings; and angels aren't even supposed to feel anything, let alone in a human way. From his point of view, he’s not _assuming_ anything. Dean’s protecting himself from the ache in his chest, every time he allows himself to think that Castiel might love him as Dean does. 

“You know what?” In that moment, Sam gives up. “Cass,” he says, in a way that’s incredibly close to a prayer. “You know you’re busy, but I have an important question for you….” 

Dean jumps on him, shutting his mouth with his hand, panic rising in his ears at the rhythm of his heart. “Cass. _No_.” 

Sam bites his hand immediately, breaking free from Dean. “Cass, _yes_. It’s important. Dean’s not dying again, I swear, but…” 

“Shut up!”

“Cass, can you hear me?”

Dean rubs a hand on his face. “Cass, I swear, if you’re really listening to this bitch, I pray you: ask Jack to shut Sam up.” he stops only because Sam has a satisfied look on his face. “What’s that smile?”

“Oh, because I didn’t think Cass would come for me.” Dean takes a second to process that sentence. “Yet for you? Whom he loves like an angel? Yes.”

“Firstly, stop calling Cass. Secondly, fuck you, Sam. Cass’s your friend too.”

“Cass never confessed his _love_ for me, though.” 

“I don’t know what was in your coffee, but sure as hell it was strong---” They both freeze. Instinctively, he perceives something changing in the room, like they’re now in a larger shot, and the camera is revealing a third character. 

“Hello, Dean.” Pause. “Sam.”

At that point, Sam’s about to break into laughter. Dean raises his hands in a defeated gesture and moves on with his life. _Meaning_ : time to go into a different room. 

Castiel looks at Sam with confusion, asking. “Is something wrong?”

Sam’s propelled to hug him because, really, Cass has terrible tastes in men. Sometimes you needed some divine patience with Dean. _Well, Cass was an angel after all_. “You know what? We were missing you. This is our emergency. Dean visited your room three times already, and it’s only nine --” which was true, hands down. Sam entertains Cass with info about their new case, he tries to convince him to stay, just for a while, _you know, for Dean_.

“Anyway, you know I love you, right?” He says finally, entering the Man of Letters library, where Dean’s trying to have a coffee in peace. “What I want to understand… do you love me too.... like an angel?” 

Dean spills the coffee on his shirt, cursing. Sam laughs like an idiot. This is going to be a long day.

\---   
  


(“Sam, I’m going to kill you. Say hi to Jack from me.”

“Dean, you know that you’re not going to find another demon stupid enough to bring me back in exchange for your soul, right?”) 


End file.
